The house seemed empty. But it had a portal room.
In the thin woods eyes were watching.
Or not.
Maybe 1/2 and 1/2.
We should walk back to GASTON.
.daor eht ssorc mih gnihctaw ,nacnuD desserpmi na denipo ”,onimoD ,naem uoy tahw ees I“
Tag Archives: Axis/Tropp-Opp/Campbell O’Pine^*++@
hooker
He cracks a window and then cracks another to stare out at the linden woods bordering this place. Samantha’s Place. He knew this silhouette of a woman with the dangerous curves came between the private dick in the trench coat — the real gravitas behind surface, buffoonish Wendell “Biff” Carter — and the owner of the magic shop over in Colona with the green geode that Jeffrie Phillips took back to Teepot to “mate” with his smaller pink one to complete the circle and symbolically unite the twinned cities. That’s why the former didn’t want to talk about the later, despite 2 requests to do so in case the first was missed. It was a dame, in retro-speak.
Samantha was also the same as New Nun, a disguise that perhaps she forgot she was wearing, like a mask. New Nun knows. Rhodes > Roads.
The Colona man formerly had a herb shop over in Cassandra City. The private, trench coated investigator now has his office *in this very spot*. He’s trying to complete a triangle, just like the A.Team did in this very same town before him. Scarlet Triangle. It was all there in black and blue. Somewhere.
The Man About Time raised himself up from the ground. The portal looked bigger from the outside
than the inside.
Typical. There would be no safe passage to the Amazon this night, but he knew that was death anyway. Speaking of which…
Just later the Man About Time deduced it also had something to do with this chimney, a Big Chimney indeed. He would have to take it apart brick by brick soon to find out what makes it tick. Clock? Bomb? (another one?)
—–
“So tell me about this Colona,” he requested mildly a bit more later to the man with the orange firebird burning in front of the hearth fire. “I know that Teepot use to be the twin city of Pietmond, long since destroyed, but now it seems to be this one.” He stared at the green geode on the mantlepiece, knowing Jeffrie Phillips hadn’t arrived yet. He should be due any moment. Or any century.
“Different,” uttered the man opposite him in a deeper, less mild voice. “Somewhat,” he amended. “Reason,” he spoke about the overlap, meaning there was a reason for it. “Absorption — *assimilation*.” MAT knew that New Nun had also been assimilated.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0021, 0602, Nautilus, Nautilus City, Teepot+
Zero
And to think this was almost her home. She stands up after getting rid of slimly taller blue and slightly shorter red at once. This was not a vein and artery situation topped by topping gold and/or yellow. Plant is in the temple. *The* Plant. He touches Carrcassonnee and both (olive) green (entities) come to life. Fantastic! But what of her? Blue Berry Girl, or Blue Berry Wannabe Girl? Baker Bloch said he would stop by later after he made a decision. But the Baker Bloch that showed up was not himself but another. Another core. You could tell by the somewhat iridescent hat, I’ve heard. And so it is.
He emerged from the house instead. “Hi doll.” Oh boy.
—–
“Of course it was Axis in the house,” Baker Bloch said to fellow core avatar Hucka Doobie later. “He’s married to Wheeler after all — that still applies.” Hucka Doobie let him speak further. “His name is Blackey after all. Black like a swastika.” Careful, Hucka Doobie thinks but doesn’t say aloud. He was entering Constance Blueberry territory again with his consideration of dark against light. She looks into Baker Bloch’s eyes. Baker realizes he’s stumbling and bumbling once more. After all, Hucka herself was a strong black woman and not a Bee any longer. Or a man. She’d tied a bow on all that existence and stored it away for later study. Perhaps at Xmas.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0021, 0511, Apple's Orchard, Jeogeot, NWES Island
Abbey 02
“I was wondering if you’ve seen a little boy. About yea high?” Walter Pillsbury then sticks his hand behind his head in a nervous reaction, pretending to scratch his neck. There was something on it that he wasn’t suppose to reveal. The hand must remain hidden and out of focus as best as possible.
“No, I’m afraid not sir. Like I tell everyone with such an inquiry, you’ll have to talk to the king.” That’ll put them off, Tipsy the barista thinks without saying. Because the king is much too busy to deal with such a trivial matter. Little did she know.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0021, 0402, Paperville+, Weird-o Islands+
Gastonite
Now eyepatched Jim the Bastard Pirate, still working from his magic typewriter, looks around the 2nd floor of his new Bogota Gallery in NWES City and sees it is good.
Soon he would reach the 3rd and enter a new level of understanding about what happened to Hucka Doobie when she was pushed into that collage to the left by thought-to-be friend Tammy Whatammy back in photo-novel 7. Instead: fusion.
“When in Rome” (2018)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0021, 0314, Black Ice, Bogota, collages 2d, Gaston+, NWES Island, Silverton
magic shop
“Yeah, I’ve got one like it back home,” Jeffrie Phillips speaks about the geode on the mantlepiece before him. ‘Cept mine is pink and and *maybe* a tiny bit smaller, maybe.” Much smaller, he thinks here. But I like it just as much. Not everything has to be *big*, pheh. Except in — well, he’s got that department covered anyway, he he. He can always lord that over the people he meets. The girls flock to him, Charlene the punk being only the latest in a long line. Too bad she liked the catacombs. I was hoping I could get rid of her that way. But her mettle has been put to the test and she survived. Round 2 coming up — only about a 1/3rd make it to round 2.
“Do you know what you have to do?” Jeffrie Phillips knew that David A.B.’s diamond-like brain lie within this new host with voice deep and bass. He couldn’t look him in the whites of his eyes. This never happened.
“Um.” Jeffrie instead looks down at his shoes randomly scuffing the floor. “Sure.”
“You must coordinate the two places, there and here. This is a connector. Take it and place it with the other one. Make sure they face each other. You know the rest.”
Jeffrie Phillips didn’t know the rest but he could guess. Alchemical sex, large to small, or one inside the other. Maybe he shouldn’t have lied about the size. He decides to tell the new host. “Listen, um, Jim.”
But Jim would have nothing of it. “Coordinate!” he demanded, which made Jeffrie Phillips quickly gather up the green geode and high tail it outta there.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0021, 0211, Teepot+
shoes
“Beautiful place isn’t it?” spoke the biker to his side. Hmm: Biker. “You won’t find a better place.”
“I don’t expect to,” returned Barry X. Vampire, knowing he was being kicked out by the head honcho. “Get your own sphere,” he said on our tour of the underwater gallery, seeing many of the iterations of Paperville in the past. “Collagesity can be as important as Paperville,” he then furthered. “You think about that upon your return.
Barry X. Vampire later contemplated the two were a balance, one focused internally and the other outside of itself, as in the great outdoors. They are kind of backwards from each other in this respect.
In this moment, the train outta here should be arriving any minute. Poetry had to run over to the apartment to retrieve a final thing, she said, but met Hucka Doobie sitting at Peter Oesso’s old spot on the way back. “Don’t — I know you?” she wanted to ask while glancing over, but didn’t have the time. She just passed and nodded.
Hucka had done her work. She would be remembered later on.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0020, 0417, Paperville+, Weird-o Islands+
1921
“I wanted to show you this underwater gallery, Barry, to demonstrate that Paperville has gone through many changes, some resulting in the disappearance of the village altogether, at least for a while. The important thing is that the concept carries on. And this same thing should happen to Collagesity. I’m sorry. I cannot allow you to stay. You of course can take Poetry back with you. You have to find her sister for one thing. Please keep up; we’re nearing the end of this section of our journey.”
—–
“You can look and you can look but you won’t find your sister in these series of pictures, Poetry. Axis, the New God of Paperville after all, said she hasn’t been here in a while — ran off with a fellow named Biker several years back now. Went to a place on the mainland called Iris, like an eye. And she was searching for an ‘I’. It went missing in a jumble of tiles numbering 25 down from 26. Now we are on a similar journey, Axis states. A search for center.”
“But we’re *in* the center (sim),” a disappointed, sad Poetry countered Barry, still peering at the people, still searching. That *could* be her in the far back with the white robe, she thinks, eyes squinting in an attempt to focus. Axis, although a New Near God, might not know *everything*. There’s always the 5 percent chance out of 10 that marks it down to 9.5. He has a Diamond of a mind now thanks to Cat-Witch, a true return of David A.B. to his perch at the center of it all. To him…
“Margret,” he prompts, interrupting her reverie and saying her real name for the 1st time in a while. She knows she must pull out of the past…
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0020, 0416, Paperville+, Weird-o Islands+
New God
“Paperville. It’s certainly an interesting concept, Hucka. And I might have met Zappa here. It’s like he just strolled by when I was walking my cow around like a Monkee. Said my music was too white, and I indicated my body, which is very white indeed. Well, cream colored. Skin colored — see there how racist I am Hucka Doobie? I think of skin as white, cream, but there’s all hues. Red, yellow, green —
“Not yet,” Hucka Doobie replied about the last. “Mabel is a forerunner.”
“Of course.”
“But to the Pen Temple. It’s actually Penntemple.”
“So I see. Like Paperville is almost Paperville but not quite. And then there’s Pageville somehow, er, laid atop Paperville. Like, well, a transparent, um, page or something.”
“Fifty-six. Look into fifty-six.”
Peter walks through the tunnel leading to the temple and changes into a former form in the process.
Pens within. And some pencils.
A secret door, leading to…
Home. Director’s seat. Axis Original, Authentic.
Now to get back to work.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0020, 0415, Paperville+, Pennsylvania, Weird-o Islands+
walk talk
The cat is the room. The cat is (waving) the room.
“Hiii!”
Follow me, it commands. “Follow Charlie,” it follows me, specific about a name. Charlie was at the bottom of the stairs leading to the market. “I’ve never been to the market except that once,” I talk back, trying to remember the once. I had to publish privately and review…
“Take your time,” it meows. “What’s time in a town without time?” he purred philosophically, also thinking about the rapidly spinning town clock. Sometimes it slows down as well. That one time it stopped. All turned dark. And then, another, it was a blur. White all around. Then occasionally it mimics our sidereal time, closely followed or preceded by our *real* real time. They’re not that far from total agreement these two types of time are. I think they can strike a deal down the road somewhere; agree to all the numbers.
—–
“Thank you for waiting, Charlie. Turns out I’ve never been to the market. Another (type of) false memory.”
“No problem. Time: again.” The cat yawns and then continues to stare. I understand that he is ready to ascend. *We* are ready.
—–
“What do you see?” asked Charlie in a voice full of meow while stepping aside near the top.
“Um… the marketplace?”
“*The* center,” it pursues. “You stay here (long enough), you will meet *everyone*. Including the one you will. Are you ready?”
“Um, sure.” I walk up a couple more steps and there we are. Gemusy Market according to the globe/map over at the school that I remember from yesterday. Today (something).
—–
I compare the price of berries, while Charlie talks to calico cat friend Fred about the ups and downs of town, not leaving out the good for the bad. I take a bite of strawberry just to test. Eww. Rancid. Then another: delicious. I see what they mean.
—–
“Over here now, new friend,” spoke/purred/meowed Charlie that God-like cat, ready to step into the God void if necessary. If needed.
“I see you. Taking a break?”
“No. Have you seen enough of the market? Are you ready to enter… the director’s suite? Just over there.” He points his head over there. A dark and sort of ominous, luminous tunnel.
“Director?” I queried, picturing a beret wearing older man in a fold out chair labeled “director”. Not too far off, but not too close either. 1/2 and 1/2.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0020, 0414, Paperville+, Weird-o Islands+
Sunklands 